


kyr'yc

by MageOfCole



Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [20]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Being Lost, CT-6116 | Kix Needs A Hug, CT-6116 | Kix is a Good Bro, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Finn Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lost - Freeform, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Whumptober 2020, not sequel compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole
Summary: (last)Kix had been frozen for fifty years; everything he had loved, everything he had fought for, it was dead and gone, leaving him as the last one standing. He’s a clone alone in a galaxy not his own, and his brothers are long dead.(No.20 - Toto, I Have A Feeling We're Not In Kansas Anymore)
Relationships: 501st Legion (Star Wars) & CT-6116 | Kix, Finn & CT-6116 | Kix
Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949908
Comments: 34
Kudos: 242





	kyr'yc

Kix had been frozen for _fifty years_.

Everything he had loved, everything he had fought for - it was all gone. Everything had been destroyed because Kix had failed. He had failed Fives, failed Jesse and Rec - he had failed the Republic and the Jedi, and now it had all been ruined. His brothers had been brainwashed and killed all the while Kix slept on in stasis, unaware of it all happening, not even knowing that he wasn’t still sleeping in his office, desperately following the trail Fives had left behind and being driven mad by it.

He must not have been careful enough, because he had been taken before he could bring his information to the High Generals. Taken and frozen and lost for fifty years.

He’s the last clone alive. He had missed Rex by almost thirty years - Rex who, according to records, had lived beyond the fall of the Republic and the slaughter of the Jedi. Rex had survived to be an old man and had helped the Rebellion overthrow the Empire. He had died in his sleep almost thirty years ago, believing himself to be the last, and unaware that Kix had been stolen and frozen the whole time. Rex had died as an old man, and Kix was alone before he had even been aware of it.

Kix moves through life in a haze after he wakes up, untethered and alone and without a reason to continue on, but still he moves, unable to stop. He’s living in a galaxy not his own, lost and trying to find anything that could make him feel whole again. He’s a clone alone in a galaxy that never wanted him, without the brothers that had surrounded him from the moment he had been decanted. Even when he was lonely, he had never been alone, but _now_ \- now he has nothing and no one.

Clones were never never made to be alone; they were made to operate in teams, they were designed to work in cohesive units. They never coped well by themselves, it was something even the Kaminoans had known, and had stopped forcing them into solitary after the massive rise in suicides that they had had to deal with. Clones preferred death to being alone, they fell into depressive, self-destructive spirals if removed from their networks, and the massive number of deaths that had followed the introduction of one-man survival missions had convinced even the Kaminoans to stop separating clones from each other when it had gotten too costly.

It’s hard, not eating his own blaster now, especially on bad days when he wants nothing more than to go see his brothers once more. He sees Rex and Jesse when he closes his eyes, he hears Hardcase’s laugh, Fives’ voice, and Echo’s bad jokes. He imagines sitting in their bunkroom on the Resolute, eating snacks that Jesse had smuggled onto the ship, watching Dogma braid Tup’s long hair while Jesse and Hardcase wrestle at his feet and Fives and Echo bicker about the most ridiculous of subjects. Rex would have watched from a distance, needing to keep up the image of their strict Captain, but eventually they’d manage to wheedle him into joining them. They would sleep in a clone pile, surrounded by warmth and brothers and the feeling of safety and home. Kix would always wake up alone though, reality sinking in once more, and - Force, he _wants_ that again.

He wants to be surrounded by his brothers again, to be with people who understand him on levels no one else does. But he can never do it, not matter how much he wants to. He can’t bring himself to pull the trigger because he sees Coric’s sad eyes every time they’d have to lie on another form after another body had been found with a hole through their heads, he sees Rex’s desperation as he talks brothers away from the edge. He remembers Fives’ shaking hands after Lola Sayu when they’d had to wrestle a syringe out of his grasp, and the broken, wailing noises he’d made afterwards.

They’d want Kix to keep moving, so that’s what he does. He stays with Ithano and his crew for a time, enjoying wild jaunts across the Galaxy hunting for treasure and adventure, but he doesn’t stay with the pirates and they don’t force him to. He drifts for a time, and gets lost once or twice. He finds the remains of the 332nd’s crashed ship and cries in front of Jesse’s grave, holding the cracked, weathered helmet in his hands as if it were his brother, apologizing to the thousands of beings he had failed and the brothers who had died because of him. He doesn’t want to imagine Jesse’s last moments, but it’s hard not to when he sees the jagged cracks in the helmet Jesse had oh-so lovingly painted after making it to ARC, promising to do Fives’ memory proud. He would have been forcibly turned against their Captain and Commander because Kix had failed to honour Fives’ last request. He would have died when the ship went down, and Kix hopes it was on impact. He hopes Jesse hadn’t been in too much pain.

Kix keeps moving, he owes that much to his brothers. He continues living for them, and when he hears of a wanna-be Empire trying to gain a foothold in the Galaxy, Kix goes to the Resistance. No one recognizes him as a clone, not as a relic of an age long past, instead he’s just Kix, a combat medic who wants to help. He knows how to fight and is a good teacher for anyone Command throws at him, and the Resistance needs whoever they can take.

He flourishes in war - he would have never thought he’d miss having to stitch people back together, but somehow he had. Kix is a clone, he had been made to fight. It gives him a purpose again, to protect the New Republic.

It also gives him the chance to build a new network.

Kix finds a young man in the medical bay one night as he finishes some paperwork for General Organa, and the kid who had been supposed to be heavily drugged stirs. He’s young with dark skin and doe eyes that remind Kix of his youngest brothers after their first battles, wearing a pair of loose sleep pants and a back-full of bacta wraps. He’s trying to sit up in the bed, struggling against the wires and machines around him as he gasps through his panic.

Kix is at his side within seconds, carefully taking the boy by his shoulder, avoiding the thick bandages around his torso, “Hey, no. Stay down kid.” He advises, and large dark eyes turn to him in surprise and groggy confusion. “My name is Kix, I’m a Resistance medic. You’re safe.” He soothes.

“I - the - Starkiller base?” He croaks, and Kix tilts his head, offering the boy a comforting smile that doesn’t feel as fake as it normally does.

“Destroyed, kid.”

The young man lets out a breath of relief, and lets Kix push him back into the bed to lay on his stomach once more, “That’s good.” He murmurs, before alarm sparks in his eyes again. “Rey?”

“Well,” Kix starts, moving to fuss with the kid’s bandages so that he could inspect the injury. “We don’t have any casualty reports on a Rey, so I can say that they’re not in the medbay.” The boy relaxes, “You, on the other hand, have been in bacta for the last week and a half.” He finally manages to wrestle the wrappings off of the kid, and he lets out a shocked hiss at the sight of the massive injury twisting across his spine. “How did you get a _lightsaber_ burn?” He demands - there hadn’t been any notes about lightsaber burns in any files he had read. But then again, who the hell would know what they were looking at with the Jedi reduced to nothing but a legend and a scary story to tell misbehaving children.

The young man blinks lethargically, the cocktail of drugs in his system probably taking effect again with the drop of his adrenaline levels. “Tried to fight Kylo Ren.” He grunts, “Lost.”

“Got some balls on you then. But that was a stupid thing to do” He had seen what lightsabers could do - he had stared at brothers hacked apart too often not to. “You’re lucky to be alive, kid.”

“Not a kid.” The kid mumbles, watching sleepily as Kix starts reapplying bacta to the wound. His cheek is smushed into the pillow, much like how Tup had once slept, his short curls a mess that reminded Kix way too much of Dogma’s before the younger trooper managed to slick it back in the morning.

It makes his heart hurt to look at him, but it’s nice to see his brothers _somewhere_ in this messed up Galaxy.

Kix shakes himself, letting out a sardonic snort, “Well, you haven’t exactly told me your name, _kid_.”

He pouts sleepily, enough Fives in his expression that it _aches_ , “FN-2187.”

Kix freezes, horror washing over him and a sick feeling in his stomach; he thought there wouldn’t be anymore children with numbers instead of names with the destruction of Kamino, but apparently that was too much to hope for. The kid - because Kix can’t even bring himself to call another person by a number, not again - flinches under his hands, like he was bracing for a blow.

If there was even more of a reason to hate Imperials, Kix was looking at it.

Dark eyes dart away from him nervously, and the kid licks his lips. “Finn.” He says quietly, a little desperate, “My name is Finn. And I’m not a number.”

Kix swallows. He stills the shaking in his hands and keeps working, “It’s nice to meet you, Finn.” He tells him honestly, and watches, a little heartbroken, as shock blooms in Finn’s wide eyes. “I’m CT-6116, but my name is Kix.” Finn’s breath catches, “I’m not a number either.”

“You’re like me.” Finn whispers in awe, voice cracking. “I’m not _alone_.”

“Not anymore, _vod’ika_.” Kix promises, throat thick and eyes burning, and he _means_ it.

Finn wouldn’t be alone, not if he had anything to say about it.


End file.
